WARREN BOBROW grew up on a biodynamic farm in Morristown, New Jersey. He is a reluctant cocktail/wine writer and a former trained chef/saucier.
There was a time in recent memory that I would walk into a liquor store and look wistfully at the selections of rum, vodka, gin and bourbon. I would walk right past the Scotch whisky as if it were something from another lifetime. My memories of Scotch whisky come at a high price for me. Unfortunately, when I attended private school, Scotch was just about the only thing that we drank. I remember a particularly blurry evening when an overly enthusiastic parent of a party-thrower was meting out veritable coffee mugs filled to over-flowing with the fruits of his investments. This gentleman who is now gone, invested heavily in Scotch whisky casks. At the end of the 30-year period there was the option to either sell the casks at a huge profit, or drink them. He preferred the latter and shared them willingly.
In college I didn’t enjoy Scotch. My college roommate often had in lean times a bottle of Johnny Walker Red, and in flush times, a bottle of the Black. I suppose that I just didn’t get it about Scotch. Single malt included. The flavors were lost on me. I made no effort to enjoy it again until less than a year ago.
Since my passion is rum and, of course, bourbon writing- I thought why not branch out a bit. Find some way to learn about Scotch by asking for and receiving gorgeous samples from the distilleries. And so I did. And my bar grew and grew with exotic offerings from distilleries around the globe.
Sitting in front of me right now are two such bottles. They were given as samples, thank you very much.
As I have said previously, if I do not like a spirit, I will not write about it. These expressions caught my mind’s eye, my sense of taste and in turn opened my palate.
The Tullibardine Aged Oak Edition says right on the label, “Best Procurable”. That statement of quality did not taint my first impression of this spirit. I should have imagined a statement about the casks before reading the ad copy. The small words fine, rare, smooth & mellow are more important to me. They express exactly what my first taste said. A sip is creamy and lush all at once. The mouth-feel is creamed corn baked into a pudding on the finish. The start is a touch of oak, a bit of cane sugar
(Do they use bourbon casks?)
Midway through swallowing this very small dram I discover the taste of peat, but not too much. There is a burn, but again, it’s metered and it doesn’t overpower the nose. The alcohol level is a fine 46% by volume, not too much, yet not 80 proof. After drinking a few of the raw cask expressions from Blackadder a few months back I’ve looked at anything less than 120 proof as “not too much”.
Turning the back of the bottle, I see that, indeed, they used bourbon casks. The company uses casks that date back to 2003 and the youngest casks are five years old. They detect citrus in the mouth, yet I detect caramel corn, grilled peaches, German eiswine and charred hoe-cakes made with charred grain instead of corn. This is an elegant slurp and I beg that you seek out a bottle. Tullibardine is not like the Scotch I’ve tried recently- it is much more American in approach. This must be from the bourbon oak. I think it will appeal to a drinker, like myself who is still learning how to enjoy Scotch whiskey.
The Balblair is like a history lesson. There comes a time when every imbiber seeks out the very best expression of the spirits that they can afford. The Balblair from 1991 will not disappoint. I’m gazing, no, peering into a dram of this whisky as if it was a veritable swimming pool of honey. The aroma fills the room. Freshly cut citrus, honey, heather, tarragon and bubbling spring water is the first thing I sense. This is a gorgeous dram of history. I suspect that each year of this liquid gold is different- as different as the grains taste from fog to fog, year to year. The earth gives off a fragrance that is immediately recognizable on the first sip.
There is smoke, yes, but it dissipates very quickly upon swallowing. The alcohol level is a bit less than that of the Tullibardine, but it actually tastes a bit hotter on the finish. The oak – used bourbon oak – the same.
I’ve gone on record to say that I love rum-aged in Scotch whisky cask so maybe I’m learning to love Scotch whisky aged in bourbon cask? I think so!
There is freshly made whole grain pancake batter in the nose and a finish of the outdoors, saline, lively and crisp. I’d say this was a single malt whisky for the spring and summer months. It’s lightweight and it makes you thirsty for more. Plus, the relatively low alcohol level will not wreck you completely if you choose to take a glass or two as an aperitif!
I don’t recommend ice in this dram, just sprinkle a bit of branch or spring water over the top. Sure, you can keep a bottle down in the wine cellar. I enjoy drinking my Scotch from 45 to 56 degrees. As it gets warmer, it changes and I like that change. This is an extremely easy to drink Scotch Whiskey. The first flavors are of freshly cut citrus fruits, toasty vanilla sugar that’s been muddled with cinnamon sticks- there’s some brown butter in there along with some grade B maple syrup.
My friend Hunter Stagg gave me some simple syrup made from Lemon Thyme the other day. The mid-notes of the Balblair is pure lemon thyme and simple syrup. I’m impressed to the range of flavors in each sip. I must recommend sprinkling some spring water over the top of your dram. It will release the emotions in every sip.
If you have a sprig of mint, or lemon thyme, slap it against your hand, sniff it deeply and have a sip of your dram.
It’s a lovely way to spend the afternoon. Sitting and sipping fine whisky.